


Black Knight at Home

by whatsanapocalae



Category: Devil May Cry
Genre: Abuse, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Rescue, Science Experiments, Torture, eventually slice of life
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-21
Updated: 2021-03-06
Packaged: 2021-03-18 20:14:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,660
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29614815
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whatsanapocalae/pseuds/whatsanapocalae
Summary: Somewhere between DMC1 and DMC2 Dante learns of a survivor from Mallet Island, not taken by Fortuna but by a team of scientists trying to figure out the truth behind the occult. He only knows that he has to get Vergil home. He doesn't know just how tough that could be, especially since Vergil may not even be in Nelo Angelo any more.
Relationships: Dante & Vergil (Devil May Cry)
Comments: 5
Kudos: 44





	1. Prologue

Dante turned off the television with a sigh, uncrossing his legs from atop his desk. The television was just background noise, most of the time and because some of the devil arms liked it. It kept them from bickering among themselves to have some drivel on. In this case it had been the news. 

"I'm going out," he said, pulling on the bright red coat that he'd worn last time he'd gone out. He wondered, for a moment, if it was a mistake, to visit someone he'd fought while wearing the same thing he'd worn while doing it. 

"Where to?" Trish asked, hopping up from the couch, holstering Sparda on her back. She hadn't been paying attention to the news then, or she was playing dumb. 

"Don't you worry your pretty head about it, this is a solo mission. Nothing you need to be worried about." If she worried she may try to stop him and he couldn't do that; not after what he'd just seen. 

"You're not doing something stupid, are you?" She crossed her arms, hip jutted out to the side as she judged him. 

"Me? Stupid? Who do you think I am?" He waved her off, "Don't answer that. And, hey, you're not my mom, you can't tell me what to do." 

"Then I won't tell you to be safe. Or give you a curfew." 

"Good." 

Normally the conversation, the jibes, would keep going until he broke down and told her, but he turned on his heel and left, nothing but Ebony, Ivory, and Rebellion on him. It was still too much for most human establishments but they were good at staying out of the way. He was going to be getting a lot of questions anyway. 

"The Defense of Environmental Modulation and Occult Naturalization has finally found a way to access the rubble from the explosion of a, before unknown Island off the coast. Most of the items found there are highly confidential, but there was a survivor found on one of the larger pieces of rubble. This survivor has not yet been identified, but has been described as being around eight feet tall. While it's also unknown how they've survived so far, they were found chained by the neck into a still intact prison-like room." 

He couldn't stop thinking about it. He had tried to ignore the knowledge of what - who - he'd found on Mallet Island. He thought he'd killed him. His nightmares were filled with that gray face, so similar to his own even after all the horror that had been etched into it, those red eyes, that white hair. He had no way to know that the demon was Vergil. Not until it was too late.   
But now he knew that he was alive, somehow, after all this time. He was going to find him. He was going to take him home.


	2. Demon under wraps

There was no way this could be stealthed and Dante wasn't much for sneaking around in the dark anyway. A bright red sports car, regardless of age, didn't help matters. Neither did a bright red coat and bright white hair. He was seen more than a mile away. Guards were waiting for him at the chain link fence that they'd put up around the chunks they'd brought in. It was a quick job but a good one, would keep humans out easily enough. There were, however, a few demons lurking on the edges of the perimeter, hoping to get some of Mundus' left over energy. 

"Tony Redgrave huh? Can't say we weren't expecting you," one of the guards said, holstering his gun. 

Dante had parked to the side of the road and come upon them easily. He wasn't looking for any trouble. He didn't need to. He would be the trouble if he needed to be. "My reputation proceeds me? Not a surprise really." 

"Bossman thinks you're the cause of all this," the other guard explained. She kept her gun out, aimed at his feet. She wasn't as trusting. Or she knew more than the first guy. 

"Does he now?" He was. 

"You're also probably the closest to an external expert on this kind of thing," the first one said, "follow us."

That was new. He was that, yes, but he wasn't expecting to be invited in. They let him past security, oddly enough not taking his weapons off him, and led him through the piles of rubble, all of which was being tested, cataloged, and studied. It looked like something out of an alien movie and, he supposed, that made sense. They had to know what they were dealing with, after all, Dante couldn't be everywhere at once and most people didn't even know that demons were real. The news network he followed at home was a bit of an underground thing, a combination of conspiracy theories, tabloids, and actual news. It didn't get picked up on most television sets. 

The guards stared at him, a few with awestruck expressions and neither Dante or Tony Redgrave had been in the limelight that much but he knew there was no way he could have done what he did for as long as he did without some notoriety. He almost felt like a celebrity, but with fans who would really like to see how he ticked. They all had their hands close to their guns too, expecting him to give them a reason to draw and fire. 

The closer they got to the living specimen the more guards there were. They weren't just antsy here, they were actually holding their weapons at the ready. The guns weren't devil arms but there was something about them, sigils carved into the barrels and a specific smell to the bullets within that put Dante on further edge than he had been. Those bullets would hurt, regardless of the gun that fired them. 

There were more scientists too. They were heavily armored, all in white, with red symbols on their jackets and on the kevlar that weren't even hidden beneath the material. They were rushing here and there, ignoring Dante and his entourage, yelling to one another. 

They had built a quarantine chamber of thick glass, probably shatter-proof, around the cell that had survived the explosion. It hadn't survived well, there were holes in the walls and one of them was almost completely destroyed. He could see in, a little bit, but he couldn't see much from how quickly he was being moved. 

"Mr. Redgrave," came a dominating voice, not really a shout but definitely loud. It had to be, what with the people shouting in excitement. The woman who had shouted was tall, with long black hair that she kept pulled back away from her face. She had stern thick black rimmed glasses and a pen to match that she tapped at a clipboard with. "Finally you've arrived." 

"This is quite a bit of security for one demon," Dante shrugged, leaving his escorts behind. She was up a few steps looking down into the cell, on the side that had no wall. There were folding tables with a few laptops and a lot of papers spread over them, other researchers and scientists filling out whatever they good, bouncing around her. She was in a position of power over the rest. "You're expecting trouble?" 

"It doesn't hurt to be prepared," she said, glancing into the cell. Dante didn't follow her gaze, not yet. He knew that looking in there would distract him. "We've never seen anything like this. Not the condition of the demon or what the demon itself may represent. We're trying to understand why it has been contained as it has while trying to figure out its build. All of our tests are finding results we've never seen before." 

"What sort of results?" 

"We've taken blood samples, over and over again, and the genetic makeup is just bizarre. Come take a look at this." 

Dante was smart but he was no scientist. He didn't say anything like that when he went to look at what she was trying to explain to him. There were three slides on one of the computers that she cycled through. Even he could see that there was a difference. The first sample was a deep blue and each blood cell had what looked like ice crystals forming around it. The second was a wild violet and the cells were too large with pores in them. The third was red, had healthy red cells, looked like human blood. 

"It's fluctuating, wildly, between these three states. I don't know what's causing it, but there's times when its a combination of all three types as well." 

"That's human blood." 

"Yes. But why would a demon have human blood?" 

He looked over the back of the screen, finally looking over and into the room. There were scientists inside, along with a few guards, creeping up to the demon in question. They had a massive shield of runes and glass between them and the demon, even though he threatened them no harm. He couldn't do anything. 

Nelo Angelo was a mess and he was pinned to a large stone slab. There was a thick metallic collar around his neck, connected to a barbed leash that was wrapped around his arm before going down to a rung in the floor. The leash was unnecessary, there was no way that Nelo Angelo could get up from the slab anyway. Massive vines had grown up and through him in places, wrapping around him in others, branches and thorns piercing through him. They took their blood sample from what was spilling off of him. 

"You can't keep him like that," Dante demanded though his voice sounded hollow. 

"We found it like that. It's stayed alive this long like that. We think that it might be fed from those thorns." 

"He doesn't need to eat," Dante explained, "I mean, food's great and all but he can probably go years without." 

"And that's why you're the supposed expert." She put a hand on his jaw, tilted his head away so that his attention was on her. "I'd love to see what you could find out." 

"I'm a demon hunter, not a scientist," he explained, "Sorry, lady, but my knowledge is in how to hack stuff up not what its made of." 

"But you have experience with all sorts of demons. You ever see anything like this one before?" 

Yes. This exact one. But the human blood, that was weird. Did his blood fluctuate as well, between human and demon? He could use that, at least. He had to get Nelo Angelo out of there. He had to get his brother back. 

"What makes you think he's a demon?" 

That got him a look of complete incredulity. "You are seeing what I'm seeing, right?" 

He looked back at Nelo Angelo. He was nude, but still covered by all those vines and thorns. He could see his chest rising and falling. His eyes were open, but the red glow of them was faint as he stared up at the ceiling. There was no sign of pain in his expression. There was hardly any expression. He looked more like a stone statue full of raspberry jam than a human being. 

"His blood is human at times. Could be that it's some sort of virus or possession. Something was trying to control him on that island, right?" he shrugged. It was getting hard to keep up his usual demeanor. He wanted to rush in there, wanted to grab a hold of his brother and ruin everyone in his way. He wanted to collapse on the floor and sob at what had become of him, what had been happening since Dante thought he'd killed him, what had been happening all those years until then. "Have you tried talking to him?"

"They've gotten a few grunts out of it but most of the time it's silent. It shows no sign of understanding what anyone's saying to it. If it were human at one point it isn't now. It's just a lump of demonically infused flesh." 

That wasn't true. 

"I'm going in." 

"What?" 

He went down the steps. A few of the guards stared at him, he was certain they were going to try something. When he pulled out Rebellion they all stepped back though. "You're going about this all wrong, lady. Take it from me, getting him out of there is going to be a lot more rewarding than just running tests on his blood." 

"You can't!" 

He could. He did. There was a glass door right in front of him. It wasn't locked, not with those other scientists and guards inside, just in case they needed a quick escape. He went through and into the cell. 

And everything was different. 

The room smelled of Mundus to the point that it made Dante want to gag, like black murky oil that had been set on a stove for too long, garlic, cloves, and intestines caramelizing in it. There was the smell of sweat and blood and pain, which had always settled like acid in the pit of Dante's stomach. There was also the smell of home, weak and buried beneath the rest, dark chocolate, upturned soil, fresh laundry, and lavender. 

The humans were all screaming, the guards aiming their guns at Dante as he approached. He ignored them. They didn't even shoot at him. They were just scared, surprised. Anything could go wrong here. 

He brought up a hand, rested it on Nelo Angelo's cheek. He was cold to the touch, his skin tough and feeling dead. His eyes did not track and, if they did, it would be hard to tell due to the lack of irises. Dante leaned down, pressed a kiss to his temple, and then a whisper to his ear. 

"I'm here, Vergil, I'm going to take you home." 

That got a reaction. A low rumbling growl, that vibrated through his body. More shouts of confusion from the scientists and some threats from the guards. The eyes twitched, though there was still no shift in his expression. He assumed that he was being looked at though. And then his mouth opened and, instead of any words, there was a painful whimper. 

"If you guys want to hold onto your lives I'd suggest getting out of here!" Dante warned. The scientists yipped and immediately ran towards the door, leaving their shield and the guards behind. They did follow, however, only with a bit more of a warning glance back at Dante before doing so. 

His brother's face seemed to be the only place safe for him to touch so Dante brushed his knuckles against his cheekbone, getting another whimper. "I'm going to cut through this. You might want to sleep for it. Go on, I don't mind." 

He closed his eyes. Even without moving his lips Dante could see that he was gritting his teeth behind them. 

It would be alright. It would just take a moment. Maybe two. 

Dante shoved Rebellion into the vines on one side of the slab, slicing through them. He leaned into it and the vines bled, deep almost black blood. When cut from the stock the vine turned brown and withered, falling out of the tunnels it had dug into gray skin. Nelo Angelo grunted but did nothing to move himself, to fight back. Dante cut through more of them. Blood was seeping down, mixing, so many different types. He couldn't imagine how much pain he was causing but the only sounds coming from Nelo Angelo were grunts and gurgles, whimpers, the same sounds that had haunted Dante's dreams where electricity flowed through his brother's body, his back arched as he slowly rose into the air, into a bright flashing light. 

His only consolation was that he would not have to pull the vines out of him. 

"Stop!" 

There were guns directed at him. The room was filled with guards, with that woman who was in charge. If they fired, Dante could handle it, he was sure. Even if they had magic bullets he could either avoid them or heal. His brother though, he wasn't so sure. Nelo Angelo was just groaning now, still unmoving, as he bled. 

He turned to them, raising his hands, Rebellion dripping that hot dark sap in one of them. 

"Look, I know you're all dying to get in on this action but-"

"You're the one who's going to die!" the woman shouted. "If you let it go it will kill you, its a demon! That's what they do!" 

"HE is weak, HE is in pain, HE's not going to do anything. I don't understand how you can just study him while he suffers through this!" 

"We need to know everything we can before others come! Look at the state of the world, we aren't ready for a demonic invasion, not in the least."

"Well, you're not going to get that information from him! Not like this." He shifted, putting himself further between the guards and his brother. "I'm not going to let him hurt more than he already has, not for this." 

"Why does it matter so much to you?" 

There it was. He was going to have to answer that. He was going to have to tell them that this was his brother that they were hurting and then everything would be ruined. It would be known what he was. They would try to hurt him too. 

He could feel the skittering of static behind him. He turned, just enough, to see the purple electricity build on Nelo Angelo's body. It shot out and passed Dante, before he could say a word of warning, ramming into the guards and spreading. The humans didn't scream, just went still, and then fell to the ground, spasming. 

That wasn't good. If they were even alive they wouldn't let Vergil off easily after that. He looked back in time to see Vergil slump back onto the slab, chest heaving, wheezing as the vines were forced to slide through the holes in him. 

Dante framed his face in his hands. He was going to have to work quickly now. He had to get them both out of there. He already knew that but he didn't have a plan for it. He rarely went into these things with a plan. 

"Hey, hey, hey, it's okay!" he tried but Vergil was trying to pull away from his hands, from his words. "Don't hurt anyone else, okay? They're going to hurt you even worse if they think you're a threat."

The response was a grunt and then a sagging of the entire body. He wasn't sure if it was the loss of energy or the pain that made him lose consciousness but it had to be for the best, he supposed. He could at least cut him the rest of the way free without hassle and he didn't have to worry about hurting him, or him attacking anyone else. The problem was just that he was now completely dead weight. 

He got him out and slipped underneath him, hoisting the large gray body over his shoulders. In a fireman's carry, Vergil wasn't too bad to carry, but it would make it impossible for Dante to use Rebellion. He'd have to rely on Ebony and Ivory, though he didn't want to have to shoot anyone. 

He had to go around the bodies and a few of them were dead but some of them had taken less of the pulse and would survive though they may not do so well. The door didn't give him any issue either, though he had to go through it sideways and while ducking to get Vergil through it. 

They needed a plan. He was bad at plans. He was good at going with the flow, taking things as they went. That was usually just him though, alone, and he could get through pretty much anything. He'd survived all his bad days so far, that was the saying. He wasn't alone though, Vergil was fragile and his body looked like it was made of some nasty gray swiss cheese there were so many holes and punctures in it. Dante's clothes, his skin, his hair, was all getting dyed from so much of his brother's blood. 

There weren't any sprinklers, no fire alarms to pull, but there were speakers in some of the corners, pinned up for some sort of intercom situation. Dante made his way up the steps and to the observation desks, where the scientists had been studying the cell from. There had to be some way to talk to the intercom through the computers, or a microphone or something. This would be the best place for it, the site of an emergency. 

There were a lot of cords and tools and instruments, things that he couldn't recognize, he shrugged and readjusted Vergil on his shoulders, hoisting him up a bit more so that he could wrap an arm around the back of his thighs. He didn't want to drop him when he bent over, looking under things. Mixed with the cords on one of the desks was a headset with a mic attached. He slipped it on and pressed the button next to the mouth piece. 

"Uh. Attention all associates. This is not a drill. Repeat. This is not a drill. The subject has escaped containment and has proved himself a threat. Evacuate immediately. Do not approach the subject. His power is way more than we thought we could handle. Just get away from the building and do not attempt to recapture." He stopped pressing the button. That would have to work, right? He'd always wanted to say 'this is not a drill'. It was a bit shaky and awkward, but hopefully they'd take him seriously. 

He dropped the headset, readjusted his grip on Vergil again, and started to run for the exit.


End file.
